The Watch
by The Assassin's Pen
Summary: The value of Stephen's watch comes into a new light when he nearly loses it. Stephen/Christine.


So I looked up Stephen's watch because I'm cosplaying him at Tekko this year and was looking for a cheap semi-lookalike at a junk shop so I can break the face and compliment my costume. The price tag on that thing absolutely floored me, as did the implications since we know it was a gift from Christine. Thus: drabble.

* * *

"Why did you buy me a twenty-three thousand dollar watch?"

Christine jumped, a squeak escaping her as she whirled around so quickly she lost her balance and had to brace against her kitchen counter. Stephen was standing in front of her, soaked to the bone and breathing hard, his eyes slightly manic as the portal he'd stepped through fizzled into nothing behind him.

"Stephen?!" she exclaimed, pushing off the counter. "What are you doing here it's three in the morning I just got off work-" she exclaimed. "You're hurt aren't you, did you hit your head again?" She immediately put hands on him without thinking, feeling for a warm spot among all the damp that might indicate fresh blood instead of rainwater, touching the side of his head and trying to get him to turn it so she could see his eyes better. He took her wrists in his and lowered them gently, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, I was in Tibet dealing with a serpent and it's raining there."

"It also isn't three in the morning there either I'll bet," she deadpanned, dropping her hands and feeling less alarmed now that his breathing was coming down.

He cringed. "No, sorry about that."

"Okay so you were in Tibet. Fighting a serpant..." she gestured in a continue motion. "So how does that end up with you dripping all over my tile and asking me about your watch?"

He looked down and pressed his lips together. "Sorry...I can..." he stepped gingerly more into the kitchen so the water wouldn't run into her carpet. "I don't have a spell to dry my clothing that wouldn't have potential burn side effects," he said sheepishly.

"That's fine, I'd rather mop up Tibetan rain water than treat you for magical burns in my kitchen," she said, sighing and pulling a towel off her oven handle and dropping it into his puddle. "Still haven't answered my question. Watch?"

"Oh, well, the serpent threw me around a little and at one point the band on my watch snapped and I thought I lost it. I actually got caught in the rain because I was still looking for it an hour after the battle."

She looked up at him from the floor, her expression incredulous. "You went through all that trouble for a broken watch?"

Uncomfortable with the vantage point, Stephen cast around and opened a drawer, finding more towels and kneeling next to her to help clean up the water. "It's not a broken watch Christine, it's...it's important. When I finally found it it struck me just how important and I realized that it also makes no sense." He sat back on his heels and looked at her, his expression the one he wore when something new and beautiful had captured his vast intellect entirely. Christine stopped what she was doing and looked back, trying to understand.

"Christine, I know you make almost as much as I did, but you never acted like it. You still live in this modest apartment, you have a car that was made in 07, and the most I've seen you spend on a bottle of wine was twenty bucks. Why in the world did you buy me a _custom_ , twenty-three _thousand_ dollar Jaeger LeCoultre?"

She looked away, biting her lip before she sighed and gathered up the sopping towels, getting to her feet. "Because I love you, you idiot, it says so on the watch and everything," she said, tossing the towels across the hall to make a wet splat in the laundry room. She turned around and he was standing again, that same expression on her.

"But you never valued things like that-"

"You did, Stephen!" she exclaimed, finding to her horror that tears were prickling. Leave it to him to open a can of her suppressed feelings for him after a sixteen hour shift. She swallowed at the lump in her throat and crossed her arms self consciously, dashing away a tear and blowing out an intentional breath. "Stephen, I was trying to speak your language. Stuff meant something to you. Expensive cars, thousand dollar dinner reservations, that insane watch collection—I was trying to meet you where you were and show you how much I cared in a way that you'd understand." She gestured into the air. "So yes, I spent twenty three grand on a watch. Twenty four and a half with the engraving and custom band, actually." She gave him a weak smile.

He was frozen in the middle of her kitchen, still dripping apathetically onto the tile, his hair a mess. When he tried to breath his breath caught on the overwhelm he was feeling and he bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment, but he didn't want to cross a line. He wanted to hug her but he was still about as cuddly as a fish. So he just stood there. Floored. "I can't believe you stuck with me when I was so blind," he said finally, and it was all he could say.

She gave a small laugh and ducked her head. "Well, I guess I could see that there was someone great buried under all that ego." She gestured to him. "And look, now there he is. Dripping in my kitchen and wearing a broken watch."

He chuckled, clearing his throat roughly and planting his hands on his hips. "I can mop the floor if you want. I'll just...portal back to the sanctum and change and then I can come back and clean up."

"Good. But if you're coming back I expect more than a mop job as compensation," she said, raising her eyebrow. He stared at her, trying not to let his suddenly racing heart take his brain too far off course. He decided to play it safe.

"Meaning...?"

"The heat is broken in my bedroom and I want breakfast in Paris. That's what I mean. So go change, mop the floor, grab whatever cult robes you customarily sleep in, get a babysitter for your cloak, and come sleep over."

He blinked. "You mean that?"

She shrugged. "Stephen, I didn't stop caring about you, and despite your best efforts we've remained friends for years."

He gave a watery chuckle at that.

She stepped closer and took his hand, running her thumb gently across his scars. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, stroking his temple. "Just come over, okay? We can play Mario kart until we get tired and fall asleep on the floor like we're little kids if you want and then sleep till noon. Just...come over."

He smiled, nodding. "And then Paris for breakfast."

"Absolutely." She let go of his hand and let her hair down as she walked away towards her bedroom. "As long as you have that ring we're taking advantage of it."

* * *

Considering she spent that much on a watch and apparently co-invented a technique with him, I'd say she probably made about as much as he did-at least at hospital level. He of course got a bunch of extra money from his interviews and talks and publications.


End file.
